The Daughter of Oracles by Amber Darwin

Author:Amber Darwin [Darwin, Amber]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

The Bone Keep - Week Two

I can’t imagine why walking is such a popular hobby in the Shadowlands. As far as I can tell, the only thing to see is tar bubbling up from the cold, hard ground. Death clings to anything that tries to thrive. It’s all night creatures and nothingness. It’s a bit of a wasteland, but I suppose the tea garden has a morbid beauty.

The towering willows don’t hold any color, the gray branches that curve toward the ground contrast with the crimson sky. Yet, it makes me feel something. It’s said that Weeping Willows symbolize death, which is fitting for a place as desolate as this, but to me, they look like art. A thing does not have to be pleasant to be beautiful. Even amid darkness, beauty still exists. If you know where to look.

“What’s on your mind, child?” Mordred asks as he lifts our afternoon tea to his lips.

Mordred and I have a routine, or I guess you could call it. We spend our afternoons in the shadow garden, drinking tea under an iron gazebo among the fever rose and blood lilies, the only plants that thrive in this unforgiving landscape.

“Nobody knows anything about me. I’m nameless. Homeless. I don’t have a purpose. Without a past, how can I see my future?” I finally responded to Mordred’s question. Fishing a little.

Genevieve.

He regards me for a moment, and I swear I see a flash of satisfaction in his eyes. “Now, you can be anyone you wish to be. Isn’t that also true? Who’s saying you enjoyed your former life? How do you know you were happy? This may be the greatest gift to receive. The fates have intervened, and who are we to question them?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” I lower my head, picking at my leggings.

Maybe he’s right, maybe not. But I don’t believe for a minute that I could be anyone I wish to be. Considering he knows who I am. Genevieve. Plus, I’m confined in the Bone Keep, repeating each day on loop, devoid of many choices at all. So I can’t help but think what he really means is that I can be anyone he wishes me to be.

My forehead creases as I fiddle with my spoon. I can’t remember things I knew after arriving at The Bone Keep. Things I know I learned here. Call me Nancy Drew, but the math isn’t adding up, and I intend to discover why. So, I repeat the thing I cannot allow myself to forget. Genevieve. My name is Genevieve.

“You haven’t had a sip of your tea.” Mordred points out.

“Oh… yes, I suppose I haven’t.” I pick up the teacup and take a healthy sip. The aftertaste sits on the back of my tongue, bitter and sharp.

We converse for a few minutes, rehashing the same old subjects we’ve already discussed. For example, Mordred would like Hunter and me to be engaged. Something about lifting morale before they march on the enemy. Apparently, weddings are an effective distraction from the possibility of having an arrow shot up your ass.

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